Echoes of Silver Blue
by Graymalkyn
Summary: The lost chapters of the story of Irina Hawke and Fenris, as well as that of their companions and family. Written for the wonderful reviewers of Silver Blue.


_**Of Cabbages and Kings,**_

**a.k.a. Chapter 0 (For Phoenyx634)**

**.**

I looked at the trail of bodies that my brother's men had left behind and shook my head. "Greed should never meet stupid," I said out loud, more to myself than to Bartrand. He wiped the blood off his rondel dagger and sighed.

"Well, there goes my last chance of finding a decent expedition partner," he said monotonously. Typical Bartrand. When things didn't work out for him, he went into these deceptively tranquil moods.

"Perhaps I should be the one to bargain the terms of partnership next time, brother?" I ventured.

"It is none of your bloody business, Varric," he grunted, giving me a stiff look. He assessed the hilt of his dagger – a star ruby adorned it, embedded there the day that he'd reached adulthood. Words were always a double-edged weapon in his lips. To the unfamiliar passerby, he was now being rude to me in an older-brother way. But I knew him better. Many years ago, Bartrand had thrown upon his shoulders the weight of House Tethras. It was his duty to succeed, his and his alone – for better or for worse.

I knew, when he walked away that night, that I wouldn't see that ruby again, or the signet ring he'd been toying with distractedly.

As I was walking back to The Hanged Man, I saw two Coterie men running away from the stairway that led to the docks. Their covered faces still conveyed a certain panic, and I wondered what had had them scramble to get away from the passage. I hid and peeked from behind the crates that were always stationed there.

"That'll teach'em," a blond man was bragging as he rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "A few more jobs like this one, and you'll be on your way out, eh, Hawke? Away from the Red Iron at last…" The men behind him sniggered. I peered and saw a formidable young man standing alone. No, not alone. There was someone else behind him, someone that was trying to keep to the shadows.

"You'll collect your pay from Meeran tomorrow," the blond guy said. "In the meantime…" With his foot, he rolled one of the bodies to its back, causing the coin purse to come undone from the corpse's belt. The faint clink of the metal was dampened by the blood pouring out of the deadly wound. "You can loot this one here, if you need some cash for you and that _freak_ you've got there." Once again, the other men snickered, as they left the man and his companion alone.

I waited. For a moment, the man stood still. I feared that he'd seen me; my hand moved over Bianca, ready to use her if necessary. I was starting to feel the pangs of immobility when I heard it. A sob; quiet, but distinct. The man turned to the person standing in the shadows.

"It's over now, Irya," he murmured. His voice sounded unexpectedly comforting, but so tired.

"Let's just go home," the young woman pleaded, tugging at the man's shirt.

"In a minute," he replied. He looked back at the corpse and took a step towards it.

"Carver, don't…" the woman murmured.

I saw his face darken. His jaw was clenched, much in the same way as Bartrand's had been a while before. _Responsibility._ There was something there that made him bend down and pick up every single coin, even those that were coated in blood. Husband and wife? He wouldn't have dragged a lover into that, no. Brother and sister, perhaps? And since she'd been called a freak, she was possibly an apostate.

_Interesting,_ I thought. Mages were always useful, but they were only affordable if you either promised to protect them or threatened to rat them out. Meeran, eh? I'd have to have a word with him the following day.

And so I did, strictly behind Bartrand's back, of course. That was the only way things could ever get done.

"You want Hawke? Sure," Meeran shrugged. "He's worth it."

"Why are you letting go of him, then?" I asked, leaning back on my chair. "You're not one to let pawns wander off this easily…"

"The guy's repaid his debt," the old mercenary replied. He told me the story of the refugee and his family, and their escape from the blighted lands of Ferelden. The guy had even claimed that he'd killed an ogre – not by himself, but aided by his sister and another companion.

"And that's the reason why I'm letting him walk away," he finished. "When the other woman joined the City Guard, well… Let's just say that I didn't feel like stepping on those toes. Her argument was clear: either I released the siblings, or I'd find myself in the uncomfortable position of having to find some other town where I could do business."

"You're shitting me," I chuckled. "A _woman_ made you do that?"

"One with a strong sense of morality and a fucking big sword." Meeran smiled unpleasantly. "The only satisfaction I get out of it is that that redhead is bound to give him an equally bad time over this line of work, and I'm pretty sure they'll butt heads over it and I'll have him working for me again in no time."

"I'd like to know this woman," I smirked. "Sounds impressive."

I left with the name Aveline Vallen stored safely in my mind. I liked the idea of an incorruptible force of nature with red hair. I could sense a story building up in my head already.

"I know who you are," she said unaffectedly. "You and your brother are lucky that the Guild won't come to us for protection."

"I assure you, madam; everything is strictly within the law."

"Yeah, the law seems to have too long of an arm lately," she sighed. "What do you need with Hawke?"

"I'm looking for someone who can enter into a partnership with us. We're funding an expedition to the Deep Roads–"

"No."

"No?" I repeated, puzzled.

"It's dangerous down there."

"So it is up here, especially for a family that shelters an apost-" Before I could finish, she turned to me and grabbed me by the lapels of my coat.

"Careful, Tethras. You do not want to threaten my friends."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I muttered, slowly slipping away from her grasp. "I promise you, it isn't my intention to blackmail them. I'm just looking for capable people, and I've heard that this Hawke is one of those."

"I do not want to lose them to the Taint, and down there..."

"You're a smart woman. You know that they won't last long in Kirkwall unless they get rich. It's common knowledge that certain authorities turn a blind eye to wealthy families with magical members…"

Her green eyes glanced briefly at the door of the captain, and then they landed on me. She was unsure, I could feel it. Probably torn between what was more convenient and what was right. She couldn't see that it didn't have to be an 'either or' situation.

"I've already lost someone to the corruption of the Darkspawn," she said after a while. "I wouldn't like to see them go that way."

I didn't ask who she'd lost. It was obvious that she still didn't trust me enough to tell me about it, but I thought it was great progress to have her go from a rotund 'No' to a 'Perhaps' area. Did I need this woman's approval? Certainly not, but I really wanted to secure this deal, and something told me that her opinion would matter to that Hawke guy.

"Where would I find him, if I wanted to offer him a decent job?"

As it turned out, all I needed to do was wait. Chance found a way for us to get together in the form of my brother's refusal to take him along. I shook my head. Ah, Bartrand. When would he learn that he was not the shrewd businessman he thought he was? He was good to deal with bullies and the geriatric kalnas, but with _real_ people…

I am not easily moved, but there was something in the way that young man walked away from Bartrand that made me feel sorry for him. He turned to his sister and kissed her forehead. I could see her wringing her hands. For her to be safe, they'd either have to lay low or soar high, and now that he was out of work…

I was about to walk up to where they were when a most peculiar scene caught my eye. A disturbance: a drunkard bumped into Hawke and muttered a half-assed apology. I smirked. The oldest trick in the book, and the poor sod had fallen for it. No sooner had the drunkard turned round the corner than he seemed to regain his senses and he ran away, taking with him the pouch of coins that he'd stolen from the Hawkes.

At least he deserved points for_ trying _to get away.

I swear that if Bianca could growl, I wouldn't even need to shoot these losers. As it turned out, one shot was all I needed; something to throw him off balance. The guy staggered against the wall and I hit him with the stock of my trusty girl. Down he went, and I happily took the stolen purse from the passed-out fellow. Such a little thing had finally given me the chance to talk to this guy. I took a long look at the meager pouch. Inconsequential. And yet…

I added a few coins to it. It wasn't like he was going to count his coins before me – he'd be glad to get his money back. As I sauntered towards them, he turned to me, and I swear that he looked as if he'd been waiting for me.

"Catch!" I said merrily, as the pouch flew from my hand onto his.

His sister gave me a bewildered look, but his ocean-blue eyes seemed pleased. I smiled and said, "How do you do? Varric Tethras, at your service."

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**A/N:** So, the premise for this story was "A one-shot that focuses on Varric; I feel like he'd always be around when interesting things go down."

The title comes from the poem "The Walrus and The Carpenter", by Lewis Carroll. The stanza goes: "_'The time has come,' the Walrus said, / 'To talk of many things: / Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax / Of cabbages and kings / And why the sea is boiling hot / And whether pigs have wings.'_" I've always liked the idea of Varric as a potentially unreliable narrator _("Aveline, I thought you'd have noticed by now: I lie a lot"_), and he reminded me a bit of the tricky Walrus.


End file.
